


wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey... stuff

by triangularium



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Communication, Declarations Of Love, Diabetes-inducing fluff, Doctor Who References, Fluff, M/M, Oikawa Tooru's Knee Injury, sugary, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 02:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11304237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triangularium/pseuds/triangularium
Summary: In retrospect, it’s a totally ordinary night when Oikawa first brings the word “love” into defining his two-year-old relationship with Iwaizumi.





	wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey... stuff

“If you could go back in time,” Oikawa muses absently, staring at the ceiling, twirling a lock of brown hair that is abnormally long around his fingers (Iwaizumi needs to force him to cut it soon before it gets painfully tangled; he knows from experience that this will result in a very whiny Tooru), “when would you visit?”

 

Iwaizumi doesn’t even try to muffle his exhausted groan.

 

“ _Doctor Who_ , again?”

 

“I have amazing taste, Iwa-chan! It’s not my fault you’re not up-to-date on popular culture and science-fiction TV shows!”

 

“I never said you didn’t,” Iwaizumi points out, rolling over from his back onto his right side on the bed so he can observe Oikawa’s expression and profile under the guise of making regular eye contact. His boyfriend has spared no effort (or expense, considering how many comic-cons across the country Oikawa dragged him into attending with him, even before they’d started dating) in Operation Get-Iwaizumi-Involved-In-Fandoms. Needless to say, the cause has been an utter failure. “But do you have to make references to your alien movies with me? You know I won’t understand anything.”

 

He sees the beginning of Oikawa’s scandalized gasp before he hears it, and smirks almost imperceptibly. It’s fun to get him riled up about something Iwaizumi himself views as extremely trivial. Oikawa really doesn’t realize how beautiful he looks when he’s passionate and drawing himself up in righteous anger. He waits for the inevitable explosion, counting down in his head.

 

_3... 2... 1..._

 

“How could you say that?! _Doctor Who_ is a full-fledged television series, not just an ‘alien movie,’ and it has fans from all over the world! The titular character is absolutely hilarious, always new and fresh, and changes between some seasons but still generally remains true to the spirit of the Doctor. There’s great dialogue, friendships and romances that transcend time and space, and messages about human nature that are still applicable today! Also, hot British actors! Hot. British. Actors. By the way, did I say British?”

 

Iwaizumi snorts and throws an arm across his forehead and eyes. He peeks through, snickering, lashes fluttering as he traces the high spots of pink on his partner’s face.

 

“Don’t think you can avoid the question, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa reprimands, sitting up and crossing his arms stubbornly. Then, more curiously, “When would you want to go back to?”

 

“That would imply that I’m not happy with how things are now. I’m perfectly content, and thus have no reason to regret any of my past choices.”

 

“That’s not an option! Come on, Iwa~,” Oikawa entreats with false plaintiveness. “I want to get to know you better, and asking questions is one way of doing so.”

 

“We’ve been going out for two _years_. We’ve been friends for more than ten. If you didn’t know me, I’d definitely be worried.”

 

Silence. Iwaizumi can _feel_ Oikawa pouting. He sighs heavily and turns the situation over thoughtfully in his pleasantly, albeit only temporarily, unworried brain.

 

A moment that he’d want to go back to and change... but every moment, every step he’s taken since childhood has led him to this slice of time, the dream he hadn’t known he’d wanted to bring to life -- a sleepy heat radiating from Oikawa’s skin as their fingers interlace on the sheets, solid, real, grounding. Why would he ever want to give this up?

 

The answer floats to the surface of his mind, constantly present but currently becoming increasingly obvious with contemplation, like a diver underwater reaching up towards refracted sunlight.

 

“I’d go back to before your knee was first injured.” 

 

The words hang in the air, and everything afterward comes out in a rush.

 

“I’d notice your unnecessary extra practices and distract you by taking you to the park, inviting you to dinner, or enlisting Makki and Mattsun to hang out with us. Hell, I’d even watch your alien movies with you.” Iwaizumi pauses momentarily before continuing, expecting an objection to the terminology of ‘alien movies,’ but there’s no fauxly angry rebuttal. “That night.” They both know which one he’s talking about. “That night was the scariest one of my life. And it wasn’t because I’d watched you collapse and was afraid of your pain. It was because you’d revolved your entire life around volleyball and couldn’t see the harm that it was doing to you. Your body. No sport is worth destroying yourself. I thought I wouldn’t be able to prove that to you.”

 

A heavy quiet.

 

For once, Oikawa Tooru is completely speechless.

 

A spike of fear lances through Iwaizumi and he swallows awkwardly, loudly. Had he been too direct? Too honest? He doesn’t usually speak about his emotions; is Tooru judging him for what he perceives to be a weakness?

 

He looks up gingerly, but he could never have imagined what he sees in front of him.

 

Oikawa’s shoulders are hunched over, and his hands are in his lap. There’s a suspicious glitter in the corners of his eyes and smeared down his cheeks.

 

Iwaizumi’s breath catches.

 

How is it that Oikawa looks pristine and oddly pure even when he’s crying?

 

He burns and buries the thought immediately, horrified, and leans in to envelop Oikawa in a hug ( _what’s wrong? please tell me how to make it right again_ ) that he remains in stiffly, unmovingly, but melts into as Iwaizumi’s tenseness hints at moving away.

 

“Iloveyou” pressed against the shoulder crease of Hajime’s shirt, damp with tears.

 

“What?” Iwaizumi winces at the volume and the intonation of surprise. He feels like a bull in a china shop, effortlessly wrecking the relaxed, good mood that they’d been enjoying before this conversation, bathed in the moonlight filtering through the blinds.

 

Oikawa’s hands, calloused and slender, cupping his face. His brown eyes, now dry -- wide and stern and uncharacteristically serious.

 

“I love you, Hajime.”

 

It’s apparently Iwaizumi’s turn to be stunned.

 

He breathes in but the oxygen he inhales doesn’t appear to be nearly enough, and he thinks he feels his heart start to beat faster and faster. They’re on a train that’s leaving a station, and they don’t know where they’re going or how long it’ll take to get there, but they’re together. That’s all that matters.

 

There’s an inexplicable warmth in his chest and a pricking pressure behind his eyes. _Wow_ , he wonders, awed at the way the world suddenly comes into focus, brighter and more clear somehow, _we really are a bunch of old saps_.

 

“I love you, too, Tooru,” he murmurs, and grips him tighter to show him.

 

They hold each other then, neither wanting to taint this special memory, but Iwaizumi clears his throat after an interminable period of time, his limbs growing numb and tingling warningly with the promise of falling asleep on him.

 

Oikawa’s hair is rumpled and sticking out in weird angles in a way reminiscent of Kuroo Tetsurou’s natural style, and Iwaizumi can’t resist one last wisecrack.

 

“I only said that because I’m tired of having to massage your legs every time you complain and toss them onto me when I’m trying to watch TV on the sofa.”

 

“Iwa-chan! You meanie! And anyway, isn’t that what a setter is supposed to do for his ace?”

 

“What?”

 

“Toss!” Oikawa laughs, but it’s cut short as he leaps away nimbly to evade Iwaizumi’s muscled arms that reach to put him into a headlock that’ll muss up the artfully disorganized setup he has going on.

 

“You look like a rooster,” Iwaizumi deadpans, and it’s a small miracle that Oikawa’s ensuing wails don’t wake up the neighbors.

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, in retrospect, my _Inception_ reference isn't nearly as subtle as I thought it was. :P
> 
> Iwaizumi and Oikawa are just so perfect for each other -- in terms of friendship, romance, or whatever else "love" can possibly entail.


End file.
